


Alex.

by Coco101



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Can be platonic or romantic, Crying, Eventual Fluff, First Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Panic Attacks, Real Names, Seems more romantic though, slight PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:39:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28812813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coco101/pseuds/Coco101
Summary: "And he felt the unknown feeling.And knew that the feeling was love."OR, the shouting reminds Quackity of his ex, and he goes to somebody who makes him feel safe.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Sam | Awesamdude
Comments: 6
Kudos: 112





	Alex.

**Author's Note:**

> First imagine lol.  
> Not shipping real people - This is based on the SMP, and the characters portrayed on the SMP.  
> Hope y'all enjoy :)

The community house was the first straw. Quackity hadn’t known such violence and warfare before, and suddenly, he was being thrown full throttle into it all. It started with Schlatt and the 16th war. That’s when he realised everyone surrounding him, be they from Greater Dream SMP or L’manberg, craved power, they craved tyranny, and Quackity was smack bang in the centre of it. Ever since the 16th, when Quackity had to go against his friends because they teamed with Schlatt, and had to be the one to shoot an arrow into them every so often, he realised he hated war, he despised the word nevermind the actual act of war itself. And that's why the community house was the first straw. He predicted something bad would come out of this, and it did. 

Another war, Techno and Dream vs everyone else. 

And that's when Quackity felt a heavy weight attach itself to the bottom of his heart, making it slowly sink, he hated war, and now there was another one to come.

Dream was screaming at Tommy, dragging Tubbo, as a shitty president, and Ranboo, as a traitor, into the argument. And the weight on Quackity’s heart seemed to tug down harder, faster, than before, making him feel nauseous, and he could feel the tears building up behind his eyes. He just blinked.

Watching a 6’3 tyrant scream at people reminded Quackity of the 6’3 tyrant he thought he loved. That was until both 6’3 tyrant’s teamed up against him, and then one humiliated the other as he had a heart attack. That was the day Quackity thought he lost everything. Schlatt had told him countless of times that Quackity was nothing without him, hell, Schlatt wouldn’t even call Quackity Alex, almost avoiding Quackity’s real name to remind himself he was just his toy, his little side piece, so that's all Quackity amounted himself to. A toy, a side piece, nothing. 

Dream’s angry shouts continued to rise in volume, and Quackity caught himself flinching at the harsh syllables leaving the masked man’s mouth. 

That was the last straw.

Quackity’s heart plummeted straight down, his breathing stopped momentarily, and then became so erratic that all he could do was breathe heavily, trying to control it, and the metaphorical dam behind his eyes, that had been cracking slowly for several minutes leading up to this moment, broke, and he was crying. A panting, crying mess stood with his head hung low in the corner of the demolished community house.  
And suddenly, he was running. Straight out of the nearest hole in the wall, straight up the stairs of the community portal, and before he knew it, he jumped straight into the sheet of purple spirals and whooshing sounds. His lack of care while jumping into the portal meant he slammed right onto his hands and knees when he landed in the nether. He pushed himself up onto his feet, using the sleeve of his faded, cobalt sweatshirt, he wiped the waterfalls of tears from his cheeks and began speed walking through the nether, following the obsidian-cobblestone pathways.

His mind had a lag time. It was still at the community house, replaying Dream shouting over and over again, which meant Quackity's heart and soul were leading his body wherever he was going. It was only at the point where he faced another portal, had Quackity realised the land next to him was completely flat. The nether roof. When he entered the portal this time, he took more care, quite confused as to how he had ended up on the nether roof, and quite concerned as to what the portal lead to, but as he stepped out of the portal, he saw lush grass, flowers sprouting from the soil in sporadic placement, and a very tall, wide mountain staring him down.

He realised where he was, and he began crying again. He didn’t know why he was crying, he knew he wasn’t unhappy to be standing in front of the mountain, and he knew the occupier of the area would welcome him with the kindness he showed everyone. However, he didn’t know what he was feeling, he’d never felt this way before, it wrapped around his heart and spread almost a warmth around his body when he thought about the person who lived here. 

And he was running again, trying not to trip and fall flat on his face as he sprinted to a stone wall, slamming his bare palms against the cold grey. He felt an ounce of hopefulness return to him, after being so hopeless for weeks, he felt an ounce of hope return.

Just like he felt it leave again after the door didn’t open.

“No. No, no, nonono, no...please” He let out, voice shaking and quiet, talking to the stone as if it was the devil keeping him out of heaven.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and when he reopened them, he let out a yell, “Please!”.

“Please!” He yelled again, “Please.” his voice grew quieter, “please.” and quieter, “please-” until it was a whisper, and he slumped onto his knees, head dropping to look at the floor as tears dropped onto the individual green blades.

“Plea-”

“Quackity?” A soft voice spoke out behind the crying figure. 

Quackity’s head whipped around as he heard the voice, he wiped a sweater sleeve-covered-palm down one side of his face, trying to remove the salted water from his cheek, even though more followed swiftly after. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” The taller man asked him, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun shining directly on him.

“Sam?” Quackity whispered. The man in front of him was already so angelic but the golden light shining down directly on to him made him look otherworldly. Quackity thought he was imagining him.

The severity of the situation dawned on Sam when he heard the quiver in Quackity’s voice and saw his hands trembling against his sides. 

Sam pushed his trident into the holster on his belt and jogged over to Quackity, kneeling down beside him and hugging him, standing up straight with Quackity still in his arms to lift him onto his feet. He took his shovel from his belt and tilled part of the grass, triggering the stone door to lower so he could walk in with Quackity pressed tightly against his side. 

The door ascended back to the ceiling, the two of them stood in the entrance to the mountain house. Sam looked down at Quackity’s trembling hands and noticed the cuts scattered across his palms from slamming on the stone wall. 

“You stay here. Jus’ need to go get something. Ok?” Sam spoke, softening his voice, scared he’d frighten Quackity if his voice raised over a certain volume.

Quackity nodded, and as Sam let go of him, he felt like a piece of him was leaving, he immediately wanted Sam’s presence right next to him again.

His legs felt weak, so he went to lean against the closest wall, closing his eyes and letting his body slip down until he was sat on the floor.

The sight of Quackity slumped against the wall, knees pulled to his chest and head hanging low, again, was enough to break Sam when he walked back into the room, carrying his first aid kit that he’d bought on impulse when buying supplies. 

Sam quietly walked toward Quackity and sat down next to him, nudging Quackity’s thigh with his knee to signal he was there. He pried one of Quackity’s hands that were clutching his legs, beginning to tenderly wrap the soft, white fabric around it, aiding the wounds on the smaller’s palm.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Sam asked gingerly, continuing to wrap the bandage around his hand, his touches lingering against Quackity’s fingers a second too long. 

Quackity sniffled. Did he want to talk about it? Sam always made him feel comfortable and warm, but revealing the torment he went through with Schlatt, Quackity didn’t want to be seen as broken, he didn’t want Sam to treat him like like a fragile glass ornament or a bird with a broken wing, he wanted for at least one person to see him as an equal, a human, for once in his life.

“The shouting, I- I guess it got too much for me? I don’t like shouting, it reminds me of-” and with a hard blink, more tears rolled down his cheeks.

There was a silence between the two, not awkward, yet not comfortable in the slightest.  
“George told me.” Sam says, voice still low and quiet, testing the waters.

“What?” 

“George told me. About you and uh, about you and Schlatt,”. Sam let go of the now bandaged hand of the smaller man, Quackity found himself begging for him to pick it back up, realizing he bandaged it slightly wrong, just so he could have more physical contact with the other.

More silence. Quackity looked down at his hands, fumbling them together, trying to push back more tears as the name of his ex-lover repeated in his head, swarming his brain like an agitated swarm of wasps. 

“I’m sorry, about what he did. You didn’t deserve to go through that,” Sam continued.

“Nobody deserves to go through that, you especially.” He finishes. The last part trailing off into a whisper, almost as if Sam had been talking to himself. 

Yet Quackity had heard it, and the feeling came back - the one he hadn’t been able to identify earlier, when he realised where he was - the warm feeling he wanted to feel forever.

“Look at me?” Sam questioned, not demanding anything from Quackity like everyone does.

Quackity lifts his head and looks up to meet his eyes with the ridiculously tall man sat right next to him. Sam's eyes captivated him as much as his own captivated Sam. 

“Quackity,” Sam sighed, “You were always too good for him. Everyone who’s ever met you knows you’re worth so much more than you think. You’re a funny, talented, and loyal person, and he was lucky to know you, even if he didn’t realise that.”

More tears. There would always be more tears. 

“You’ve always deserved so much more than what you’ve been given. You don’t deserve to fight in a war, or be used by your ‘friends’,” Sam’s started,his eyes staring right into Quackity’s, “you deserve so much better, Alex'' Sam let out.

Alex

Quackity felt an overpour of emotions. All good ones.

And for the first time since he moved to Greater Dream SMP, Quackity felt heard, he felt seen.

And he loved the way Sam said his name - his real name.

And he felt the unknown feeling.

And knew that the feeling was love. 

This is what love was meant to feel like - somebody seeing you, the real you, making you feel safe, and warm, and loved.

Sam didn’t see Alex as a toy, nor a broken, fragile mess. 

“Alex? You ok?” Sam asked, worrying he’d broken him, as he just sat there blankly staring.

“Uh, yeah,” Alex felt a small smile grow on his face, “Nobody’s ever- say it again.”

“Say what?” Sam quizzed, slightly tilting his head to the side to emphasise his confusion. 

“My name. My real name.” Alex breathed out. He laid his head on Sam’s shoulder.

A few seconds later, Alex felt Sam’s cheek rest on top of his head. “Alex.”

“I’d never hurt you, Alex.” Sam said, gently picking up Quackity’s bandaged hand, holding it in his own.

“I know.”


End file.
